


Drive Me Crazy

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Prompt Fill, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22541533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: The three ways in which Romeo drives Mercutio crazy.
Relationships: Mercutio/Romeo Montague
Kudos: 43





	Drive Me Crazy

“Oh Romeo, you drive me crazy sometimes,” Mercutio laughs and allows himself to drop back, hanging upside-down from one of the lower branches of the apple tree. His grin is wide and fond, despite his proclamation. “We should totally do this.” 

Romeo scrunches up his face, his forehead crumpling in a familiar way, as he tries to decide what Mercutio means. “I don’t get it. How is sneaking into the Capulets’ garden going to _solve_ anything?”

“It’s not supposed to _solve_ things. It’s supposed to be _revenge._ ” Mercutio waves his arms around, gesticulating expansively “They cut down a branch from one of your trees, you get into their garden and…I don’t know…trample the roses!”

Romeo still fails to see the appeal. He sits down on the ground and tosses an apple into the air listlessly. “Seems a shame to punish the roses for something Tybalt did.” 

Mercutio rolls his eyes. “They’re roses. They don’t care.” He pulls himself back into a sitting position. “Alright. Fine. Not the roses. We’ll just take a bunch of their apples, too. Or whatever it is that grows in that miserable, overgrown orchard of theirs.” 

Romeo smirks. “You’re not even a Montague and you hate Capulets more than any Montague I know.”

“Lies!” Mercutio squawks, then pauses to consider this. “Well, actually, no. I hate Tybalt a lot. But that’s only one Capulet.”

Romeo tilts his head. “Why _do_ you hate him?”

Mercutio rolls his eyes but doesn’t answer. 

“No, really, why?”

Mercutio jumps down from the tree and gives him a long, serious look. Romeo feels strange under that gaze, as though Mercutio can see straight through him, read his mind, detect every emotion going through his chest. It’s both unnerving and somehow nice, to be so well known and understood. Romeo continues to look at him, without speaking, waiting for Mercutio to come up with an answer. 

Mercutio comes to sit in font of Romeo in the grass, reaches out and touches the faded bruise and scab on his cheekbone – a souvenir from an unfortunate graze with Tybalt and his friends a week ago. “Because he does shit like this,” Mercutio says quietly, seriously. 

Somehow, Romeo can’t meet his eyes. He can feel his face going red. “This whole thing isn’t about the apple tree at all, is it?” 

Mercutio sighs with a note of exasperation and drops his hand from Romeo’s face. “It never is. Now, come on, stop being such a bore and help me figure out what would be the best way to get into the Capulet gardens unnoticed.” 

*~*

“I don’t understand why you’re mad at me?” Romeo crosses his arms and leans against the wall. He’d had a little too much wine and thinking straight is hard at the moment. 

Mercutio glares at him like a cornered animal. “Because you drive me crazy with this shit, Romeo!”

Romeo glances over at Benvolio who only shrugs and takes a step back, reluctant to get in the middle of his friends’ fights, which can be spectacular when they are both in a mood. 

“Who even is this girl? Have you ever even _spoken_ to her?—No, the answer is no, I already know that.” 

“Then why ask, since you already know everything?” Romeo snaps. “What’s gotten into you lately anyway?”

“What’s gotten into _you_?”

“I’m in love!” 

Mercutio scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

Romeo pushes off of the wall he’d been leaning against, overflowing with frustration and hurt at not being understood. “Well, I am. You can act superior about it all you want, but it’s true. And it wouldn’t kill you to be a good friend and supportive _for once._ ” 

Benvolio looks up sharply. At the rate this is escalating they could end up fighting and then what is he going to do?

“Please. I’m always listening to you whine about some bullshit.” 

“Nice to know my feelings are bullshit to you.”

“Oh, fuck off.” 

“Sure, whatever. Come, Benvolio, let’s go home.” 

Mercutio looks over at Benvolio who raises his hands. “I’m not choosing sides, I promise. But we do live at the same place.” 

“Whatever,” Mercutio mutters and walks away. Benvolio looks after him, hesitant to just let him wander off into the night when he’s angry like that. 

“You can go after him if you want,” Romeo says glumly, kicking up a small cloud of dust. 

Benvolio sighs and puts an arm around his shoulders. “No, let’s just go home. You’re drunk.”

“Not really.” This assertion is somewhat undermined when Romeo stumbles almost immediately, nearly knowing over both himself and Benvolio. “Why must he be like this? Alright, perhaps I talked about myself a lot today, but I’m suffering here.” 

“Maybe you’re exaggerating just a little?”

“Even if I was – and I’m _not_ – just because _he_ doesn’t have strong feelings about anything or anyone—”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?”

Benvolio gives him a reproachful look. “You should. Mercutio cares a lot about you. He’s simply…” Benvolio runs a hand over his face. He shouldn’t say too much. It’s not his place. “It’s only that he feels…helpless, I suppose, when you get like this.”

This gives Romeo some pause. He mulls the idea over for some time, then asks, “Helpless, why?”

“Don’t get mad but…you want to be in love so much that sometimes you miss the obvious and make your own life harder than it needs to be. And he wishes he could…help you, on that account, but doesn’t know how.” 

Romeo is silent for some time, then says, “I’m too drunk for this.” 

Benvolio pulls him a little closer. “We’re almost home. Don’t worry about Mercutio. He’ll come around. But give him a break – he tries.” 

“I know,” Romeo mumbles, surrender in his voice as he leans a little against Benvolio’s shoulder. At least they’re almost home. 

*~*

“Oh _God_ , Romeo,” Mercutio breathes out hot and wet against his ear, his hands impatient and wondering. There’s laughter and lust in his voice and it fills Romeo with a heady warmth like nothing else ever had. “You drive me crazy.” 

Romeo hums an acceptance of the compliment, allows Mercutio to pull him down into his lap, wraps his arms around Mercutio’s shoulders. Mercutio’s hair is soft, and Romeo tangles his fingers in it, tugs lightly, making Mercutio gasp. Their lips find each other, first soft and tentative, then rougher, braver, more desperate. Mercutio moans into the kiss, his tongue sliding against Romeo’s lips, demanding entry. Romeo shifts on his lap into a more comfortable position, then deepens the kiss. 

There’s a rightness to it, Romeo decides, a feeling to coming home. They kiss for long, languid minutes, exploring each other’s mouths as Mercutio’s hands begin to explore Romeo’s body in a way he had never been able to before. “What if,” Mercutio mumbles against his lips at one point when they briefly separate for air, “I take you and throw you on the bed—”

“And what then?” Romeo grins into the small lip-nip he receives for the question. 

“Ravish you until you can’t think of anything but me.”

Romeo laughs, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside him. “I would have never thought you to be the sort of man who says _ravish._ ” To ease the sting a little, he pulls Mercutio into another long kiss. 

Mercutio holds Romeo close, their bodies pressed together, so that Romeo can feel Mercutio’s growing excitement. His own body responds accordingly, and he hums into their kiss, a bouquet of shivers erupting over his back. “Why did it take you so long to say anything?” Romeo asks when Mercutio switches tactics to kissing his neck, sucking on the tender skin just at the edge of Romeo’s jaw. 

“Thought you’d say no,” Mercutio says, the words somewhat muffled as he continues to cover Romeo’s skin with kisses. “You like skirts so much.” 

“Ohh,” Romeo draws out, half in response to the explanation and half to the tightness in his own abdomen. His hips buck forward, and he feels more than hears Mercutio gasp under him. 

“Fuck, Romeo, we should move,” Mercutio says, his voice painfully tight. “I’ll go crazy if I can’t get these _fucking_ clothes off you in like thirty seconds.” 

Romeo laughs, cups his face so that they are looking at each other, and smiles happily. “I’m never going to say no to you.” 

Mercutio makes a feral sound of triumph and scoops Romeo up, carrying him to the bed, as Romeo laughs and clings to him, both scared and excited at this new thing they have.


End file.
